Along with my own inability to find my shoes in the mornings, and my grandmother's occasional conviction that my father is dying again and she cannot find him it seems other parts of my building are descending into dementia.

This is because every evening and every night at random hours I hear the echoing of shouts and howls and screams and strange bangings. It is very eerie, especially when the wails join in with the wailing of the wind.

At first I thought it was someone having sex, then realised that nobody could be having that much sex and the pathway of elimination led me to the mother of the downstairs neighbour whose descent into dementia appears to have taken the elevator. It still wakes me in the night but I'm getting used to it. It's a bit like living in Mr. Rochester's household except hopefully minus you know, the fire bit.

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On the other hand the dog is quite the most obedient animal I have ever had. It obeys every command, and is quite the nicest member of the family. I swear she's got a temperament like Jesus. A thing that is especially striking when we compare this to my late dog who treated commands at best as a suggestion and at worst as an insult and who never heeded any counsel but his own. And hey it seems right that my long-suffering mother finally has someone who really listens to her.

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Serbian telly makes me laugh. Every couple of hours there are adverts for Amazing Weight Loss Productz!!!! Although alternatively there is some lovely music with stirring lyrics:

Oh body next to my bodyYou look good on meLike a suit...

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It is bitingly cold. The frost makes my face tingle. There is still no snow alas, but yay for Gilmore Girls on telly [in between all the weight loss ads]

Pictures of the dog shall be reinstated forthwith, soon as I'm back in the UK and can upload them from the digital cam.As a bonus I shall also throw in the pictures of the tower I built from my medication.